


Baking

by TORUKAisJUSTICE



Series: 25 Days of ToruKa Christmas [16]
Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: M/M, Toruka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TORUKAisJUSTICE/pseuds/TORUKAisJUSTICE
Summary: day 16 of 25daysofToruKaChristmas





	Baking

**Author's Note:**

> This is so late and lame I don't even know what I'm doing anymore hohohoho please forgive me gaaah
> 
> Also, sometimes, I leave the fic open-ended, but the ending can be seen on the corresponding art in instagram coz I'm that lazy mouuuu
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Taka roughly breathed through his nose at the sight that greeted him. He was gone, _for what,_ just a half-day to run around the city with his friends. They’ve just went home after an extensive European tour and he’s _sick_ of being with Tomoya and Ryota every fucking day so he went out and gallivant with Takeru and the others. While they were eating lunch, his lover— _I’m really surprised that he’s awake by now_ , the idiot just pats his back the moment they made it on the airport then grabbed a taxi and went home last night—texted him that he’ll be going in his unit to chill out.

Why the guitarist would bother to come across the city to hang out in his empty unit is beyond his understanding anymore. _Maybe he just wants to sniff my pillows when I’m not there?_ Taka grinned at that thought, making Takeru look at him in amused understanding, shaking his head before resuming eating. _Maybe._

So, when he almost staggered inside his unit—

That damn actor had fed and made him drink too much, saying that it’s been a while since they’ve hang out together, clinging to him while muttering something like, _“Come celebrate the Christmas with me again, Taka-pin~!”_

But said _Taka-pin_ has already promised his lover that they would stay at home and eat Taka’s cooking on that day. Everyone would be out and it’ll be next to impossible to actually go on a date or something. Besides, both of them were tired and would prefer fucking and cuddling under the sheets, inside the safety confines of their walls rather than trudged through the bustling streets and get mobbed by people.

—he was surprised to find the leader standing in the archway towards his kitchen. Taka froze at the sight of his lover leaning on the frame, his arms crossed over his chest, his hair tousled like he just survives a fucking explosion and he looks disheveled as fuck. _But still handsome._ And pair it with his bedroom eyes, Taka can already feel his arousal stirring.

_Huh._

But anyways, he froze and stared at his guitarist before his almond-shaped eyes instantly narrowed in suspicion. Toru never=ever go to the kitchen, except when Taka is in there and he wants to hug the vocalist from behind or when he wants some beer and Taka was so damn lazy to get one for him. Toru and the kitchen _doesn’t match at all_ , and he knows that the guitarist feels the mutual hatred for that specific part of the house so why—

Why one earth is he standing there, looking disheveled and _suspiciously_ grinning like fuck?

“What the hell did you do,” Taka spat, taking small yet speedy steps towards the guitarist.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Taka,” Toru said, unfazed at his murderous glares, “ _Okaeri,_ you bastard.”

“I—,” Taka wanted to retaliate, but the warmth and giddiness has already flooded his system so he just stuttered a soft, “ _Tadaima_ ” before he proceeds on glaring sharply at the man obstructing his way, “Get the fuck out of the way, tho! I need to see the damage you’ve done!”

“What _damage?_ ”

The guitarist looked so damn serious, he stared at Taka with a blank look on his face— _totally calm_ —and if it’s not because of the years they’ve spent together, for the countless of times they’ve seen each other broke down, cracking their masks off and stripping all the pretensions from each other, Taka wouldn’t even know that it’s the usual face the guitarist would use when he’s hiding something or bullshitting Taka and everybody else.

“Get out of my way,” he hissed.

“You’re drunk, Taka,” the man said in exasperation— _exasperation, really?! Why is he the one getting fed up?!_ —before he uncrossed his arms to touch his shoulders, “Come on, let’s get you to bed—,”

“It’s just six in the evening!” he slapped the hand off and tried to get past the leader—aiming to get inside his kitchen—but the fucker grabbed him by his waist, making Taka yelp like a fucking girl as the man practically manhandled him back to the living area, all while Taka is struggling like someone’s abducting him, “Let go, you _coward_!!!”

“I’m not a coward!” Toru said as he deposited Taka on the couch and straddled his legs to prevent him from kicking his balls— _and oh I’ll really kick it, you Gachapin-faced bastard, and it’ll break into fucking omelets, just you see, T_ aka inwardly threatened, even if he’s not sure if you can just…break an egg and instantly turned it into an omelet.

“Then let me see the damage you’ve done to my kitchen!”

“How do you even know that I did something to your,” oh did Taka hated the smirk that formed on the man’s lips, “ _oh-so_ precious kitchen?”

“Because you’re in there,” he snapped, “And you being in the kitchen _always_ involves damage, Toru-san.”

“What—,”

“—like fires, exploding pasta—,”

“I didn’t—,”

“—burnt cookies and cakes—,”

“—I just kinda fell asleep—,”

“—and burning pots of water,” his eyes narrowed into slits, watching as the man hovering above him fidgeted in obvious discomfort and guilt, “Don’t you think I’ve forgotten about that incident, Toru-san, and speaking of that, you still haven’t paid me for that pot! It was expensive!”

Toru looked quite taken aback by that, because here’s Taka—their vocalist with a great command on stage—asking him to pay for some…pot that met a rather unfortunate incident a few months ago when Toru tried boiling some water for the pasta.

“Fine,” Toru said, “I’ll pay you later, or maybe we could look for a new pot tomorrow, so you just go to sleep now, okay?”

Taka narrowed his eyes. The fucker won’t really let him go to the kitchen, huh? Fine. He concedes, forming a naughty plan in his mind as he nodded and fake a huge yawn.

“M’kay…” he mumbled before fluttering his eyes close, “I’m sleepy anyways…Takeru had thoroughly tired me…” he has his eyes closed so he couldn’t notice the flicker of childish jealousy on the man’s face, before it was replaced by the look of relief that Taka’s not insisting on getting to the kitchen. He felt the guitarist cautiously moved off his body. Taka cracked an eye open to see the guitarist slowly getting up and trudging towards the kitchen—

_Here’s my chance!_

In a whirlwind of black sweater and beanie, Taka bolted up and jumped over the couch, running at full speed towards the kitchen.

“Fuck—,” was the only thing Toru could mutter as he tried to run after him, hands flailing in an attempt to pull Taka back but it was too late—Taka had already dashed, his socked feet almost sliding across the well-polished floor as he grinned in victory before taking a good look at his kitchen.

Or more specifically, _what has been left of his kitchen._

He…there’s a shit-ton of white substance—and he hopes that it’s flour and not _…something else_ …like powder for washing clothes—on the counter, like someone sprayed it all over the room like fucking confetti’s. There’s strawberries and blue berries violently mutilated across the chopping board, as well as a chocolates and melted butter and what…eggs?!

There’s this…awful burning smell coming from the oven, and _holy shit there’s a monster in there—_

Okay, maybe he’s just exaggerating but he ran towards this precious oven just to switch it off, frowning as he saw the overflowing…shit…batter…whatever the fuck Toru-san had put on the cupcake molding tray.

It’s…

_It’s…_

Taka started to sniffle, not really sure if he wants to cry or smash something or smash something across his lover’s face because this—this _fucking completely annihilation_ of his kitchen is just…just…

“I’ve tried to warned you,” his vision snapped towards the direction of the arch way where the guitarist is standing, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, “There’s a mess in here.”

_No shit._

“A m-mess, Toru?” he stuttered, choking on his own tears, “You call this a fucking mess?” he watched as the man flinched at the piercing coldness of his voice, “This is a goddamned _warzone,_ you imbecile!”

“It’s Tomoya’s fault—,” the man tried, once more, to bullshit his way out but Taka just glared at him.

“Tomoya is with his friends!”

“—or Ryota’s—,”

“He’s with Michelle-san!”

“—I don’t know—,” the man said before, finally, hanging his head down low in a pathetic attempt to looked like he’s a kicked puppy or something, “I just…Tomoya said that you’ll like it if I bake you something for Christmas,” he softly mumbled and oh did Taka’s heart made a complete 360-turn at that.

 _What the fuc_ k. He can hear his jaws dropping on the floor with a loud thud! At that sudden revelation. Toru-san actually did this…destruction of his beloved kitchen to give Taka something for Christmas?

He did it?

“You did it…for me…?” he asked in disbelief, the scent of burnt…batter still lingering in the air.

“Well, yeah…” the idiot looks so damn uncomfortable. Maybe he’s still having his jetlag so he decided to drag Taka with his mood by _destroying_ his kitchen.

“But…” Taka swallowed down, his lips suddenly parched at the sweet, sweet warmth that’s quickly blossoming within his chest, “…you don’t even like cooking…”

Toru is now having a full-blown frown on his usually stoic face, and Taka finds it an adorable, Gachapin-version of sulking. And it’s cute. Really cute. Even if the guitarist is looking like he’s torn between running the fuck away and strangling Taka because of this humiliation.

“…Yeah, but…” he scowled and pushed his hands into the pocket of his jeans, “…I wanna see you smile coz of my cooking, you know,” he said with his distinctly thick Kansai accent and Taka was done.

So fucking done.

And aroused.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

 

A few minutes later, Taka is perched on the counter, hands tangling behind his lover’s head, his legs wrapped around the strong hips as Toru-san do his…evil ways—including berries and whipped creams and chocolates—on Takahiro.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading~!


End file.
